Batman: The Lowering of Gotham's Crime Rate
by footshooter
Summary: Gotham's scum have changed tact, and have lowered their game. It's starting to drive Batman crazy, and he needs to work out why they're switching from planting bombs to sending used tissues through the mail, growing flowers and throwing ice cubes at the general public. Before it's too late. Multi-chap, total crack, Swearing. Almost-AU.
1. Introduction

Gotham city; dark, cold, windy, rainy. It's nearly May and it's still hail stoning. In the middle of thunderstorms. It's making the place more depressing than usual.

And this has brought the villains out of the woodwork, creeping around and causing disorder, destruction and craziness.

Except, not for a while.

And this is driving Batman crazier than usual.

He can cope with shootings, stabbings, robberies and murders. But the _small_ stuff; how do you cope with the small stuff?

His head is starting to hurt and he's sure they're trying to get him to hand himself into Arkham so that they can start to wreak proper dangerous destruction once more.

But the Bat will not be broken, and so he carries on, even though… Weird things are happening.

This is the story of Batman, and the lowering of Gotham's crime rate.


	2. The Joker

**a/n: _I have the _worst_ cold at the moment, and this is what has brought this story on. I was lying in bed last night, coughing my chest-infected guts up, and thinking about how mental it would drive the Batman if, just all of a sudden, the crimes the villains were committing just got a little silly. I know this plot isn't entirely feasible, but what part of Batman is? Haha. Anyway, I've missed writing for this fandom, and I've got exams which are driving me a little loopy so this is coming from a part of my brain that's been a little too hot for a week or so, that probably isn't getting enough oxygen from my dodgy lungs, is probably dehydrated from the water pouring from my nose, lungs and pores, (TMI, soz) and is being crushed under a load of medical knowledge. I hope you enjoy it, I'm sure if I was reading it and hadn't written it I would! It's good to be back! -fs_**

* * *

Joker cards through the post used to mean bad news. They used to mean you were about to be poisoned, or blown sky-high, or assassinated. Something horrific. So when the first call came into Gordon that someone had received a parcel containing a Joker card, he sent everyone he could spare over there.

Someone carefully opened the envelope, and bomb disposal were all over it. It contained a slightly damp tissue. So they sent in the poison experts, and Gordon lamented how it was a shame they had lost Crane to lunacy, because he'd be damned good at this. Turns out it wasn't poison.

It didn't contain even the slightest bit of Joker poison, anthrax, strychnine; nothing. Na-da.

So he called in Batman.

* * *

Batman took the tissue back to his lab, along with the card for analysis, and they met that night on the roof of Gotham PD.

"Got anything?"  
"His DNA."  
"Is that all?"

Batman nodded.

"So that is… what exactly?"  
"Appears to be mucus."  
"Mucus? Mucus from where?"  
"Nose, chest…"  
"Like, what? A cold?"  
"Yes."

Gordon frowned over this.

"The Joker has a cold?"  
"Apparently."  
"Well, I suppose he is just a man."

Batman shrugged.

"But why is he sending this out in the post?"  
"I don't know yet. But I'll find out."  
"There's no postmark. It's been hand delivered. Must have one of his men on it."

Gordon turned around, but Batman had gone. He scowled.

"I don't know why I bother"

He turned and walked back into the building.

"Getting all worked up over a kid sending his snots out in the post. What has this world come to?"

* * *

More tissues were sent out the next day, most turned in to the police station.

* * *

A few days later, half of Gotham PD were ill. Coming down with a pretty nasty chesty cough, shivers, sneezing and plenty of mucus. The bins were filling up with tissues.

Gordon, wearing a face mask, sighed, defeated.

"Oh, everyone ill just go home and don't come back until you're better!"

An officer came up to him, coughing his guts up. Gordon pulled a face.

"But sir, maybe that's just what the Joker wants!"  
"If the Joker's in the same state you lot are, he won't want anything more than to stay in bed. Go home. Everyone staying, put on a face mask."

Batman wandered in that night to see three officers and Gordon in the building. All wearing face masks and surrounded by hand sanitizer, a pile of soggy envelopes, cards and tissues on a far table.

Gordon threw a face mask at him, and he placed it over the cowl. Gordon smirked behind his own mask, but Batman, thankfully, didn't catch it.

"Where is everyone?"  
"The Joker's _cold_ is pretty virulent. He's infected half the city."  
"Bastard can't even keep a cold to himself. I bet he's lying in bed somewhere, laughing."

Gordon glanced up at Batman.

"If he is, it'll be a miracle. Most of my men can't speak without coughing. He'll be sweating into a dirty mattress somewhere. Yes, he's managed to bio-infect half of the population, but that means us healthy people can get some real work done without him prancing about putting us off."

Batman glanced around.

"What are you going to do with three men?"

Gordon sighed, and shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know. How about I just admit he's won again. He's brought us down with a bloody cold. Just enjoy the couple of quiet days while you can. He'll come back twice as strong after not killing for a few days and you know he will."  
"What are you going to do?"  
"Oh, just play with his DNA. See if I can find out who he is."

Batman frowned, but no one noticed because he's always frowning.

"I don't think you will."  
"So what? He's already just a kid with too much hair, a carved up face and no mother to feed him, tell him to get washed and brush his teeth. Look at what he's already done to Gotham. Knowing who he is won't help us, it will just make me feel better."

Bruce didn't think the Joker was quite that young, and was pretty sure if he tried he would look after himself - especially since he can successfully grind a city to a stand still when he tried. But he didn't think Gordon was in the mood to be proven wrong. Plus, sometimes Alfred still had to feed him and tell him to get washed, so it would be hypocritical to point that out.

"Okay."  
"And if you want something to do, all of the others are leaking out of the woodwork since he's out of action. Ivy's causing havoc downtown."  
"Havoc?"  
"Yes, havoc. I've had people on the phone complaining about some sort of garden."

Batman paused.

"It might be dangerous. I'll check it out."  
"If you need any help from-"

Gordon looked up, and sighed again.

"I don't know why I bother."

One of the officers shook his head.

"It's just rude, really."  
"Isn't it?"

The officer nodded, and turned back to his crossword.


	3. Ivy

The sun came out as Batman was walking down the street and for the first time, well, ever, he wished he wasn't wearing black. No matter what the problem was, he was going back to being nocturnal. Joker cards in the post; stick them in another room. Ivy creating a poisonous jungle; stick a cordon round it. Mr Freeze freezing the whole of downtown for the twentieth time; get a giant hairdryer and blow the fucker skywards. Let Superman deal with him.

Batman was musing over how much he hated Superman so much that he didn't realise he'd walked onto a sunny, green meadow filled with flowers until he was halfway across. Luckily, he hadn't squashed any. That had come across badly for him last time.

He stood in the middle and looked around. None of the plants were moving suspiciously, just swaying in the slight breeze. They were all colourful and wouldn't look out of place in a community park or garden. Not that Gotham had those. Well, they had one but Harley had let a hyena go in there and they still didn't know where that had gotten to so no one really wanted to take their child to the park. That and the ducks kept disappearing. Joker fangirls were the worst.

Batman inspected a flower upon close quarters and was surprised when it didn't jump up and bite off his nose. He straightened up. So, he could see the issue, but not the problem. It was bright and airy and plants were climbing up buildings and adding a splash of colour to Gotham in a good way (he'd dealt with numerous attempts of the Joker trying to add a splash of colour to things and, just no.)

A man in a suit with severe glasses and a severe haircut stalked over to him purposefully, pointing.

"Batman, you have to stop Ivy from turning our city into a garden!"

Batman frowned, the dull ache returning to his head.

"I dunno. I think it looks quite nice," he growled and the man looked scandalised.  
"How can you say that!?"  
"Well, it's bright and airy and not eating people. If everyone wants it gone, it's a job for the council. I'm not going to stand and drag them up all day."

Ivy appeared behind them, giggling, a small, living carnivorous plant on her shoulder. Batman spun around.

"Ivy."  
"Bat."

His eye caught the plant.

"Oh, you're not planting those again."  
"He's my pet! Of course I'm not."  
"Well, good. It interfered with me catching criminals."  
"It interfered with the criminals being criminals too."  
"Yes, until Scarecrow felt the need to poison them all. Which then poisoned half the town, too."

Ivy rolled her eyes.

"Wait until I next see Johnny. He's been avoiding me."  
"I'm not surprised."

The severe man was looking scandalised still.

"Batman! Do something!"

Batman sighed.

"Ivy, what are you doing?"  
"Injecting some life into this damned city!"  
"You're not trying to kill anyone?"  
"No."  
"No flesh eating plants, grabby-vines or pollen that is toxic?"  
"No! I'm just trying to be nice!"

Batman nodded.

"Yeah, alright."

He turned to the man.

"Get on to the council, not me. But if I was you, I'd just leave it."

The man's jaw dropped.

"Where are you going?"  
"To get out of this suit. I'm roasting down here."  
"But her plant is snapping at me!"  
"I'm not a play school teacher!"

Batman grappled on top of a building, and flew off.


	4. The Riddler

As he was flying, Gotham's weather changed again and he started to feel the cold. He was wishing his suit trapped the warmth better, and was about to ring Lucius when he saw three police cars around the bank, a forth rushing to the scene. He could only make out the figures of three men, one speaking through a loud haler, the other two keeping the crowd back, and guessed they'd need help so dropped out of the sky next to Gordon.

"Oh, bloody hell Batman!" he said, through the speaker system, and then cringed as the crowd started to chuckle. Bruce tried not to smile.

"What's happening?"  
"The Riddler is holding up the bank."  
"Holding it up?"  
"Well, okay, not quite. He's standing outside of the bank with a gun and refusing to let anyone in if they don't answer his riddle."  
"Oh god, again? I'm starting to miss the Joker. At least he did something new each time."  
"Tell me about it. This is what?"  
"Third time this month."  
"Can we not just cart him back off to Arkham?"  
"He just disappears. Plus he gets out after like, a day."  
"Well, try to get him this time at least."

Gordon picked up the loudhailer again.

"Riddler! Stop harassing people who want to withdraw money."

The Riddler bristled.

"I'm not _harassing _anyone. It's not my fault they're too stupid to be able to answer a question."

Gordon hit himself on the head with the piece of kit.

"I wish we could go back in time."

One of his officers, the late one, was standing behind him.

"To when music made us all unite?"

Gordon turned to stare at him.

"Did you just quote Jessie J?"  
"Yeah. Sorry."  
"In a… _situation_."  
"Do we have a name for these situations?" Batman helpfully asked.  
"No! But it's a situation! Go over there and help them keep the media out."

The officer nodded, and wandered off.

"See what I have to work with?!"  
"Let's get this over with."

Batman walked forward and Riddler poked him in the chest with his cane. Batman resisted the urge to punch him in the face.

"What's the deal, Riddler?"  
"Ahhhh, Batman. If you wish to see your accounts, tell me this! What is black and white and red all over?"

Batman sighed.

"A nun with sunburn?"  
"AH-HAH! NO!"

The Riddler paused, his face falling.

"Although, actually. That does work."

He sighed, and stepped aside.

Batman nodded, turned around, and got Gordon to loudhail the answer to the waiting, disgruntled crowd.

"Ah, but Batman, you forget. The Riddle is different for every person!"

Batman sighed again, walked up to the Riddler and elbowed him in the face. The Riddler fell to the ground, muttering "Ow! You bastard!"

"A man once told me never to go for the head first. But since I don't need information from you, I didn't see it as such a bad thing."

Gordon's team ran in, cuffed the Riddler and half carried him to the awaiting cars. People started to trickle into the bank. Bruce just really couldn't be bothered anymore, so started to walk away down the nearest alleyway.


	5. Scarecrow

So Batman was left wandering through Gotham trying to get home without being a pussy and calling for Alfred when a cop car pulled up beside him and Gordon rolled the windows down, looking haggard.

"Another one?"  
"Crane?"  
"Oh, lord."

Batman climbed into the passenger seat and Gordon sped off, lights flashing, to the middle of the high street where Jonathan Crane was stood on the top of a car, surrounded by empty cans of Stella, shouting at the public and throwing ice cubes.

"This guy," Gordon said, turning off the engine. "Is becoming a real pain in the ass."  
"At least it's just ice he's throwing."

They stepped out of the car. Crane was swaying dangerously, singing U2 and chucking ice.

"Crane!" Batman shouted, and a very harangued public moved out of the way to let him past, shooting dirty glances at the clearly drunk lunatic rattling a bucket and sloshing cheap beer around the place.

Gordon rolled his eyes when Batman got no response.

"Crane!"

Still the singing continued. If anything, it got louder. Batman took off a glove with a very irritated expression and put his fingers into his mouth, whistling very, _very _loudly.

"I said _Crane!_"

Crane swung towards him, eyes narrowed. He probably thought he looked intimidating but it was more than likely he just couldn't see. He was missing his glasses.

"I'm not _Crane_!" Crane protested, his accent going from neutral to a strange mixture of American and Irish. Batman recognised it from the more recent Scarecrow outbursts. He almost felt bad for spraying him in the face with so much toxin. But then he remembered that he'd sprayed the entire city so he probably deserved it. Even if it had split the two personalities he had lurking around in his head completely apart.

"Okay then, Scarecrow," Batman growled, and Gordon sighed. It was like something out of a comic. And not a serious comic, a comedic comic. The ones from his youth. The supervillains were getting less villainous and more just downright crazy. He was sure they were doing it on purpose.

Scarecrow, still squinting, took another swig of beer before crumpling the empty can and throwing it behind him, hitting a passer by and spraying her hair. She looked thoroughly pissed off.

"I'm not even _Scarecrow_, you fucking idiot," Scarecrow said, putting his hand in the bucket. "I'm MR FREEZE!"

He launched some ice cubes at Batman's face, and they splattered across the cowl. Gordon had to hold in a chuckle.

Batman blinked it out of his eyes, the black make-up running down his face. He put a hand out, pointed, and growled, "No!"

Well, that was too much for poor Commissioner Gordon. He completely broke down into laughter. Citizens of Gotham were still walking past, looking at all three of them as though they were crazy, Batman was staring in a very unimpressed way and Scarecrow just looked downright confused.

And then, in his fit of laughter, came a strange buzzing sound from behind them. Scarecrow squinted at the oncoming vehicle.

"Hey, I know Johnny's a bit blind and all that but… I'm sure I can see Bane in a Smart Car."

Batman and Gordon, suddenly serious, spun around.

And sure enough, there he was.

"As if today couldn't get any better."

* * *

**a/n: _thanks to my lad for the ice cubes and 'no' ideas. I still cry every time I think about that..._**


	6. Bane

They jumped into Gordon's car (Batman's being AWOL) and semi-sped off down the street. Gotham main street was pretty impossible to have a car chase down unless someone was hanging out of a truck with a bazooka, someone had a Batmobile or someone had the city on lockdown. So, Batman sat with his head on his fist resting on his knee, sighing, as Gordon attempted to weave in and out of cars that Bane's stupid little car managed to fit through easily.

After the third heavy braking, Batman sighed, and Gordon glared at him.

"Look, it's not my fault I'm in a police car and he's in a hairdryer is it?"  
"Alright, calm down."  
"No! I will not! If you were going to be so petty you should have driven!"  
"I'm not being-"  
"You sighed! You're always sighing!"  
"Gordon, just drive the car."

Gordon managed to barge his way through the traffic just in time to see Bane take a corner. And, due to his weight and the small size of his car, tip it sideways and skid along the deck for a second.

Batman and Gordon looked at each other once Gordon had braked.

"Well, that was easy."

And then the car tipped back up and Bane's hand disappeared back in the window. And a slightly battered smart car sped back off like a go-cart in the most ridiculous car chase you could ever imagine.

Gordon put the car into gear again.

"Well, I didn't expect that."

After at least seven blocks and Bane tipping the car another three times, Batman and Gordon were really losing interest.

"Is he just going to drive around all day?" Gordon asked, sirens blazing but stopping nonetheless to let a woman with a baby across the road.  
"If you don't hurry up and catch him."  
"You are seriously cranky this afternoon, Batman!"  
"Do you blame me?"

Bane had picked up speed now they had reached the less habited, dingy part of Gotham city. The car was swaying dangerously as he sped around corners, and Gordon and Batman were just waiting for another tip.

And another tip came. And it was pretty spectacular.

The car landed on its side and skidded off into a wall, sparks flying off the metal where it connected with the pavement and screeched. Bane pushed the passenger side door open and tried to heave himself up and out, but had a bit of a problem due to his size compared to the car.

Gordon pulled up beside him, taking the keys out of the engine and hopping out.

"How the hell did he fit in there in the first place?"  
"No idea."

They approached a struggling Bane, who stopped suddenly and stared at them.

"Ah Batman, Commissioner, how very nice to-"

A door slamming and an irate voice cut him off.

"What the fuck is this ciuty coming to, huh? When a guy can't even get some sleep because fricken idiots keep skidding cars into my wall. I mean, what the hell? Can you drive? Who gave you your license coz I'm gonna be having words with them!"

The man sniffed, and by this point everyone was staring at him.

"I mean, come on! I'm ill, and I'm trying to get better because this scummy bit of the city is boring and Bruce Wayne has a party in a few days and let's face it, I can't turn up looking like this!"

He coughed, loudly, and Bane looked at Batman.

"Why, Bruce Wayne won't mind. He's right there."

Batman narrowed his eyes, and the Joker threw his arms out.

"Well, ya, genius. I know _that_, I mean, of _course_ I'm gonna know who _my_ Batsy is. But point is, I need my beauty sleep! Not, ya know, some douchebag muscle-man with roid rage slamming into my walls all of the time!"

Gordon turned to Batman.

"Does everyone know who you are in this town?"  
"Apparently."

Gordon shrugged.

"Alright, you're both coming with us."

Bane looked at the Joker, and started struggling again. The Joker blew him a kiss and started to run away into the shadows in his boxer shorts and flip-flops, wheezily giggling.

"Gods sake," Batman muttered, and took off after him.

He caught him in the next alley, coughing his guts up, and walked up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder and spinning him around to face him. which, obviously was a big mistake, because the Joker took that opportunity to sneeze directly in his face, covering his face with spit and snot.

Batman went to wipe it off, and maybe punch the Joker, but the Joker kicked him in the balls, waving his arms around, giggling and shrieking,

"Forgot your codpiece!"

When Bruce picked himself up of the floor, the Joker was gone and he was very annoyed.

Although not as annoyed as he was three days later when he was stuck in bed with the world's worst cold, missing his own party and his midnight vigils in the process. And, as he was texting John to tell him the whole saga, he allowed himself, just to once to say, FML.


End file.
